


cold since you left

by ThunderstormsandMemories



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/F, Female Friendship, Happy Ending, Post-Movie(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/pseuds/ThunderstormsandMemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has new friends and also maybe a girlfriend, but actually what do you call someone you hooked up with when you were both working for someone who was trying to destroy the world, and now you're not even sure where she is?</p><p>or,<br/>teenage wlw supporting each other and finding their places in the world and also kissing (background Jean/Jubilee)</p>
            </blockquote>





	cold since you left

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for the ending of X-Men: Apocalypse
> 
> Also I apologize if the fic timeline contradicts the movie timeline at all. I tried my best to remember, but also I needed certain things to happen so [shrug emoji]

“So,” said Jean, “who was that girl?”

“What girl?” said Ororo, even though she knew perfectly well who Jean was talking about. Jean rolled her eyes and gave her a knowing look, the kind of look that said, _I don’t need to be psychic to know that you’re avoiding something_. “Psylocke,” she said. “I don’t know where she is.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” said Jean. “I’m asking, are you okay?”

Ororo shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said. “What does that have to do with her?”

“Well,” Jean said carefully, “you don’t seem fine to me. No, I haven’t been in your head,” she said quickly, before Ororo could say anything, “but you seem… lonely. Like you’re missing someone.”

Ororo sighed and looked away instead of answering. It seemed like everyone was outside, enjoying the weather, and Ororo was tempted to call up a rainstorm, just to see if she still could or if her powers had faded when Apocalypse was defeated, and also because she was just a little bit jealous of the students, with their pre-existing social groups that had no place for her. She missed Cairo, and the kids that looked up to her, and yeah, she did miss Psylocke. “I’ll be fine,” she said again.

“Alright,” said Jean, standing up and brushing the grass off her skirt. “But I’m here if you want to talk. I know we don’t know each other very well but, well,” she smiled, shyly, “I want to be your friend.”

She began to walk away, and Ororo scrambled to her feet and said, “Wait!” Jean turned back, and Ororo took a step toward her. “I want to be your friend, too,” she said, and Jean’s smile was brighter than the clear sky overhead.

\---

_Who was that girl?_

Ororo shook her head, trying to clear it, unable to stop thinking about Jean’s question. The truth was, she didn’t really know. She didn’t know much about Psylocke, not even her name, and she hadn’t had time to figure out who Psylocke was to her. She was powerful, she’d noticed that right way. And she was beautiful, and she’d noticed that right away, too. Apocalypse had been focusing on Caliban, but Ororo saw Psylocke and hadn’t been able to look anywhere else. And Psylocke had been looking right back at her. Ororo still thought she was beautiful, even with her blade across her throat.

She was even more beautiful with her lips on Ororo’s, her hands on Ororo’s back as she pulled her closer. That was the first time, just after they found Angel, and Apocalypse wanted to test his new powers, which left them alone, and something about the way the moonlight fell across her face and the way Ororo still felt after having her powers- well, she wasn’t sure exactly what Apocalypse had done- awakened? expanded? Whatever had happened, she had never felt more alive, like the power that had always been inside her was closer to the surface, and she felt wild, reckless, like there was a storm coming and she could taste the changing winds and the crackle of electricity in the heavy air. She wondered if Psylocke could taste it when they kissed, if she felt the shock that Ororo felt when they touched.

The second time was the last time, and Psylocke was the one who kissed her, fiercely, desperately, as if she knew that this was their last chance, and Ororo had kissed her back, matching her intensity. She might be the one with storm powers, but Psylocke was just as much a force of nature, and she pitied whoever would stand in her way.

She’d been so scared, when she saw Psylocke trapped by Apocalypse, his hands around her throat, and she wished she had been brave enough to turn on him. And then, when it had been Mystique after all, she felt relieved and then ashamed, and there was some kind of irony there, that the first time she saw her hero, the first woman she’d ever realized she had a crush on, in real life, she’d been in the form of her girlfriend. She wasn’t even sure if she could call Psylocke her girlfriend, but she didn’t feel right not calling her anything, and _girlfriend_ was more concise than _the girl I made out with twice and barely know_. And then she’d watched her walk away, and somehow amongst all the rest of the crumbling ruins, she could still hear her own heart break.

_Who was that girl?_

_I don’t know where she is_ , she’d said, and she wished it were a lie.

\---

“Want to sit with us?” said Jean, who was taking her role as Ororo’s new friend very seriously. And then, when Ororo didn’t respond immediately, she said, her face falling, “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to…”

“Sure,” said Ororo, taking a seat across from Jean and Jubilee. “What’s going on?”

“It’s almost time for prom,” said Jubilee. “Do you have a date yet?”

“Um,” said Ororo.

“It’s okay,” said Jean, linking her arm with Jubilee’s. “I don’t either.” Jubilee smiled at that, a little smugly, and Jean looked at her like they were sharing a private joke. They did that a lot, and Ororo didn’t think they meant anything by it, but she still felt incredibly lonely.

“We’re going together,” Jubilee explained. “Not, like, officially, but still.”

“As friends?” said Ororo cautiously. She didn’t think so, not with the way they kept smiling at each other like they were the only people in the world, the way they always sat together close enough for their shoulders to touch, the way their hands brushed together when they walked side-by-side and they didn’t think anyone was close enough to notice.

“Well, we _are_ friends,” said Jean, her eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t be dating her if we weren’t also friends.”

“But we are also dating,” said Jubilee. “So. Who do you want to go to prom with?”

“No one,” said Ororo, taking a deep breath to steady herself before speaking again. “If Psylocke were here, maybe…”

Jubilee nodded knowingly, and Jean reached across the table to put her hand on Ororo’s. “It’s okay,” she said. “We get it. I mean, I’ve never gone through exactly what you’re going through but…”

“I know,” said Ororo. She stared down at the table, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “It’s just…” She bit her lip, not trusting her voice to not crack.

“You’ve never told anyone before, have you?” said Jubilee softly.

Ororo shook her head. “Only Psylocke. And there wasn’t much time, we didn’t talk about what we were, we just _were_.”

“Want a hug?” said Jubilee, and Ororo nodded. Jubilee and Jean both moved to her side of the table and sat on either side of her, and she leaned into Jean’s shoulder as Jubilee patted her back. Her _thank you_ was muffled by Jean’s jacket, but she thought they both understood anyway.

\---

She woke up to someone knocking on her window frame, someone who was perched on the sill of her open window, open to let in the wind, not intruders. But there she was, moonlight casting half her face into the shadows, her hair loose and windblown around her shoulders silhouetted against the night sky, and at first Ororo thought she was dreaming. She got out of bed and went to the window anyway, the floorboards cool against her bare feet, and the wind and the stars were calling her.

“Hey,” said Psylocke.

“Hey,” said Ororo, stopping a few feet away from the window, trying to give her space.. “You coming in?”

“You look good,” said Psylocke, not coming in, but she didn’t disappear either.

“You look good, too,” said Ororo.

“Storm,” said Psylocke, then stopped, biting her lip, her face suddenly more open and vulnerable than Ororo had ever seen her. “Are you happy here?”

“I- yes,” she said, realizing as she said it that it was true, that this had become more than just a safe place to stay, that she had friends and maybe even a home. “Do you want to come in?” She had more questions, on the tip of her tongue, that she was too afraid that asking would upset whatever fragile balance was keeping Psylocke there: _will you stay? where have you been? what am I to you?_

“Am I welcome?” she said.

“As far as I’m concerned, you are,” Ororo said.

“Even after…” She shook her head, and Ororo didn’t blame her for not wanting to talk about the last time they’d seen each other, or the circumstances under which they’d met. “You left,” she said, and Ororo opened her mouth to argue but Psylocke kept talking. “You left, and I didn’t understand.”

“You left, too,” said Ororo. “You could stayed with me then.”

“I’m here now,” said Psylocke, and the second half of that, _does it matter what happened before?_ went unsaid and lay heavy between them with the weight of the other conversations they didn’t have. “Let’s start over,” she said instead. “I’m Betsy.”

“I’m Ororo,” she said, offering Psylocke- _Betsy_ \- her hand. She took it and stepped gracefully down from the window sill, and Ororo was aware of how suddenly close they were standing, and that without the heeled boots she normally wore, Betsy was shorter than she was.

“Does starting over mean forgetting what we had?” said Betsy softly.

“What did we have?” said Ororo. “What do we have now?”

“Let’s figure that out,” Betsy said, “now, together. That work?”

“Yeah,” said Ororo, and Betsey kissed her, slow and soft and sweet, and her lips tasted like hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Haunting by Halsey
> 
> I'm also at bronanlynch.tumblr.com, feel free to say hello and/or scream at me about my beautiful amazing gay mutant daughters


End file.
